Finale

proportion. You see that, right?”
    Sure, two hours from now maybe I’d see it. After I’d showered, rehydrated, and zonked out in bed. Which, as much as I wanted it, wasn’t going to happen because I had
school.
    Dante said, “You’re commander of this army. You’re also a Nephil trapped in a human body. You have to train harder than the rest of us, because you’re starting with a
serious disadvantage. I’m not doing you any favors by going easy.”
    With sweat running into my eyes, I glared at him. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want this job? Maybe I don’t want to be commander?”
    He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. It’s done. No use fantasizing other scenarios.”
    My tone turned despondent. “Why don’t you stage a coup and steal my job?” I muttered, only half joking. Far as I could tell, Dante had no reason to keep me in power and keep me
alive. “You’d be a million times better at it. You actually care.”
    More chin stroking. “Well, now that you’ve put the idea into my head . . .”
    “This isn’t funny, Dante.”
    His smile vanished. “No, it’s not. For what it’s worth, I swore an oath to Hank that I’d help you succeed. My neck is on the line just as much as yours. I’m not out
here every morning to earn a few extra karma points. I’m here because I need you to win. My life is riding on your shoulders.”
    His words sank in. “Are you saying if I don’t go to war, and win, you’ll die? Is that the oath you swore?”
    He exhaled, long and slow, before answering. “Yes.”
    I closed my eyes, kneading my temples. “I really wish you hadn’t told me.”
    “Stressed?”
    Leaning back against the boulder, I let the breeze blow across my skin.
Deep breaths.
Not only could I potentially kill my mom and myself if I failed to lead Hank’s army, but now
I’d kill Dante, too, if I didn’t lead it to victory. But what about peace? What about my deal with the archangels?
    Damn Hank. This was his fault. If he’d gone anywhere but straight to hell upon his death, there was no justice in—or out of—the world.
    “Lisa Martin and the Nephilim higher-ups want to meet with you again,” Dante said. “I’ve been stalling, because I know you’re not sold on war, and I’m worried
how they’ll react. We need them to keep you in power. In order to do that, we need them to think your desires are aligned with theirs.”
    “I don’t want to meet them yet,” I said automatically. “Keep stalling.” I needed time to think. Time to decide on a course of action. Who was my greatest
threat—displeased archangels, or rebellious Nephilim?
    “Do you want me to tell them that for now, you want everything to go through me?”
    “Yes,” I said gratefully. “Do whatever it takes to buy me a little more time.”
    “By the way, I heard about your faux breakup last night. You must have put on quite a show. The Nephilim are buying it.”
    “But not you.”
    “Patch gave me the heads-up.” He winked. “I wouldn’t have bought it anyway. I’ve seen the two of you together. What you have doesn’t die just like that.
Here,” Dante said, handing me a chilled bottle of Cool Blue Gatorade. “Drink up. You’ve lost a lot of fluid.”
    Twisting off the cap, I gave a nod of gratitude and drank deeply. The liquid poured down my throat, instantly thickening to clog my esophagus. Heat clawed at my throat, broke through, and
swarmed the rest of my body. I bent forward, coughing and wheezing.
    “What is this stuff?” I gagged.
    “Post-workout hydration,” he said, but he wouldn’t look me in the eye.
    I continued to choke, my lungs rioting in spasms. “I thought—it was Gatorade—that’s what—the bottle says!”
    All emotion vanished off his face. “It’s for your own good,” he said dully. Then he darted off in a blur of speed.
    I was still bent at the waist, feeling as though my insides were slowly liquefying. Specks of electric blue burst across my eyes. The world swayed left . . . then right. Clutching my throat, I
trudged forward, fearing that if I passed out here, I’d never be found.

C HAPTER

8
    O NE STAGGERING STEP AFTER ANOTHER, I made it out of the woods. By the time I reached the farmhouse, most of the
fire-in-my-bones feeling had dissipated. My breathing was back to normal, but my alarm was still front and center. What had Dante given me? And—
why?
    I had a key on a chain around my neck, and I let myself in. Taking off my shoes, I